Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The End and its Afterlife

My tour of duty is over. I am back and am glad to say I brought back every part of me that I took into theater. (Only now will I confess to an irrational fear that I would lose a limb over there.) What did I learn? What did we accomplish? While this final post attempts to describe the sum total of my experience it should by no means be considered authoritative. Iraq and the conflict we are engaged in there, are too complex for one person’s experience to be anything but suggestive of the larger whole. There are many moving parts and I only saw a few of them.

Sons of Iraq

Unquestioningly, I will say that things improved incrementally the entire time I was there. When I arrived last November, Iraq already was on the road to recovering from punishing ethno-sectarian violence the previous summer. The biggest initial change after my arrival occurred In Anbar province in the west, where Iraqi Sunni insurgents slowly began to reject the austere form of Wahhabist Sunni Islam espoused by Al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI). AQI leadership largely was foreign (Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the notorious leader of AQI from 2004 to 2006 was from Jordan; other major leadership figures came from Syria, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt). These foreigners began to impose a very strict form of Islam on Sunni Iraqis. And when these foreigners attempted to marry into Iraqi families (a technique Al Qaeda successfully employed in Afghanistan and Pakistan), the Iraqi Sunni insurgents that had previously allied with them had had enough.

Under a nascent program begun in mid-2007, these former Iraqi insurgents began receiving modest pay-checks from Coalition Forces (CF) -- in effect switching sides. Initially dubbed “Concerned Local Citizens” these groups of former insurgents set up armed check points in their villages and cities and began providing information to CF where AQI foreign fighters lived and operated from. Additionally, they aggressively took the fight to AQI in a way CF couldn’t; they knew who the enemy were, where they lived, operated from, and what tactics they employed. In many ways, AQI did themselves in when they tried to impose their severe and strict version of Islam on Iraqi Sunnis.

Because the English label, “Concerned Local Citizens” didn’t translate well into Arabic, the CLCs became known as “Sons of Iraq” (from the Arabic, Abna’a al Iraq). Gradually, they became a quasi-political movement known as the “Awakening Groups.” They swelled in number as it became clear that their fortunes would be better off fighting AQI instead of remaining allied with them. As their ranks grew, AQI fighters either died or fled from Anbar Province to northern Iraq.

Muqtada al Sadr and Jaysh al Mahdi (The Mahdi Army)

In Baghdad, the influence of Muqtada al Sadr (MAS) and the Jaysh al Mahdi (JAM) was very prevalent. By the time I arrived in early November, Baghdad had splintered into sectarian division; formerly mixed neighborhoods became either majority Sunni or Shia, the latter sect dominating most of the city. The largest Shia enclave was Sadr City, a poor Shia slum named after MAS’s father, Grand Ayatollah Mohammed Sadeq al Sadr in the days after the fall of Saddam’s regime (it had previously been named Saddam City). JAM, the ad hoc Shia militia loyal to MAS, numbered in the many thousands and was well armed with heavy weapons, mortars, and rockets many of which were provided to them by Iran.

At the time of my arrival, JAM was in the middle of a six month cease fire with CF ordered by MAS. It was set to expire in February 2008. MAS was concerned JAM would not stand up in a conventional fight with CF and had ordered JAM to stand down while he concentrated on building a more legitimate religious and political power base. Things were relatively quiet when I arrived, although several “special” groups that had splintered from JAM continued violence against CF using Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), some of which were an especially lethal variety that utilized Explosively Formed Penetrators (EFPs).

MAS renewed the cease-fire in February but the day after his announcement a JAM special group launched a large mortar attack on the International Zone, the first real attack I experienced. These special groups wished to keep fighting CF. MAS, although keeping up his traditionally fiery anti-CF rhetoric, nevertheless wanted to establish himself as a political as well as religious leader. By distancing himself from the special groups, he continued to play both sides of the equation: claiming he wanted peace while still being able to shape, in some measure, the military fight against CF.

At some point during this time frame in early 2008, MAS left Iraq for Qom, Iran, a center of Iranian Shia theology (or Hawza). MAS wanted to become an ayatollah, like his father and grandfather, but to do so, he would need several more years of intensive religious studies. Studying in Qom curried favor with the Iranians, from whom MAS received a large measure of financial support, but doing so alienated him from the Iraqi Shia base in Najaf and Karbala, the traditional Hawza of Shia Islam.

By leaving Iraq, MAS gave up day-to-day control of JAM that by now had a presence in all major urban areas of southern Iraq. In addition to Baghdad, JAM also had a major presence in Basra and Amarah. Originally envisioned as a citizen militia that would protect ordinary Iraqi Shia and provide essential services in the absence of a functioning Iraqi government, JAM ultimately devolved into a criminal organization not unlike the Mafia where local “commanders” or bosses intimidated ordinary Iraqis into paying “protection” money. Some elements of JAM also embraced smuggling commodities such as oil and gasoline and controlled a lucrative black market in a number of other essential goods. And while JAM was the largest religiously oriented militia, there were several others operating in all major Iraqi cities in the south. As time went on, these militias began to battle each other as well as CF.

Battle of Basra (Operation Charge of the Knights)

By late March, Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al Maliki, a Shia, had had enough of JAM’s criminal behavior and wished to reestablish rule of the Government of Iraq (GOI) in major urban areas of Iraq’s south. In a hastily prepared operation dubbed Operation Charge of the Knights, Maliki ordered the fledgling Iraqi Security Forces (ISF) to attack JAM strongholds in Basra. The ISF quickly ran into trouble as they did not plan out many key logistical elements of their attack. CF had to come to their aid. It was touch and go for a while but ISF with CF assistance slowly took back portions of Basra from JAM. As the ISF rolled into Basra, they uncovered massive weapons caches of EFPs, mortars, and rockets, most of which were manufactured in Iran. As the tide of battle slowly turned, many JAM leaders fled Basra for either Sadr City or Amarah to the northeast.

When the ISF began their operation, JAM elements in Sadr City began launching attacks against the International Zone in Baghdad, mostly using unguided artillery rockets. The attacks began on Easter Sunday. They continued nearly every day throughout the entire month of April. Personally, this was the time of greatest stress in my tour. Every day that month we endured multiple rocket and mortar attacks in the Green Zone. Despite the heavy barrages only a few people were killed. During April, there were more than several nights where I elected to sleep in the Republican Palace rather than in my unprotected trailer.

Battle of Sadr City (2008)

Nearly concurrent with the Basra operation, ISF units supported by CF began a slow push into the JAM stronghold of Sadr City. The battle lasted through mid-May. With the capture of the southern portions of Sadr City by early May, the rocket attacks on the International Zone tapered off as favorable launching points were no longer available to JAM insurgents. At one point, CF erected a several mile long barricade of 20 foot tall concrete T-Walls, in effect shutting out insurgent forces. By mid-May a cease-fire agreement was reached between the GOI and representatives of MAS that allowed ISF to fully occupy all of Sadr City. A majority of hard-core JAM fighters fled Sadr City for Amarah to the east. Compared to Basra, the operations conducted by ISF in Sadr City were much better coordinated and executed.

Battle of Amarah (Operation Promise of Peace)

As Basra and Sadr City were pacified by ISF and CF, Prime Minister Maliki was intent on taking the fight to Amarah, the last bastion of JAM in Iraq. Planning continued for this operation dubbed by the Iraqis, Promise of Peace. On 18 June, ISF began its push into Amarah but with a catch: as ISF forces massed near the city, Maliki announced an amnesty program for JAM fighters to lay down their weapons and leave. Many JAM fighters who already had endured heavy fighting in Basra and Sadr City agreed and began laying down their weapons and either fleeing or melting back into the population. Many hard-core JAM leaders, seeing the collective will to fight quickly evaporating, chose to flee to Iran. As a result, ISF easily re-took the city by the end of the month. JAM as a political and military force in Iraq largely was splintered and defeated.

Prime Minister Maliki’s actions against JAM earned him great credibility with other Arab governments in the region, many of whom feared he was just an Iranian puppet. His fight against JAM showed he cared deeply about Iraq as a nation, not as a self-interested Shia presumably under the sway of Iran. After Amarah several Arab governments announced they would send ambassadors to Iraq. Additionally, Maliki made a well-publicized trip to Iran where he confronted Iranian leaders with Iraq-gathered evidence that Iran had supplied JAM with lethal aid.

For more on the spring 2008 fighting in Iraq, see this article.

The Fight Against AQI

By the time I arrived in Iraq in early November, 2007, the Sons of Iraq and the growing Awakening Movement had reclaimed Anbar Province, a previous stronghold of AQI. Many AQI foreign fighters and their leadership fled north ultimately making a new base for themselves in the northern Iraqi city of Mosul, the so-called northern tip of the Sunni Triangle in Iraq. Mosul was important to AQI as it sat astride a major supply route from Syria and Turkey and a sectarian fault line between Sunni Arabs and Kurds to the east.

AQI conducted several high-profile attacks and bombings on Iraqi and Coalition Forces in the vicinity of Mosul in early 2008. Throughout this time, CF applied steady pressure to AQI. By spring, ISF was ready to take them on. On 10 May, just days after a cease-fire was finalized in the Sadr City operation, the ISF launched Operation Lion’s Roar in Mosul. On 14 May, Prime Minister Maliki flew to Mosul to personally oversee operations. The operation formerly concluded on 24 May and included the capture of two senior AQI leaders: Abdul Khaleq al Sabaawi, the AQI Emir of Ninawa Province, and Abu Ahmed, the AQI finance Emir for the provinces of Ninawah, Salah ad Din, and Kirkuk.

AQI counter-attacked in late May and throughout the month of June using primarily suicide bombers, a tactic that belied their growing inability to stage large scale military attacks. Despite this desperate strategy, AQI killed hundreds of people in the vicinity of Mosul. By late June, most of the security gains achieved by Lion’s Roar had disintegrated with AQI insurgents making their way back into Mosul.

Then on 27 June, CF announced it had killed Abu Khalaf, the leader of AQI in Mosul, who had been a close associate of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. AQI cohesiveness began to evaporate. And on it goes: on 5 October, Abu Qaswarah, a Swedish citizen of Moroccan origin, was killed by CF. An AQI spokesmen identified him on an Internet website as the number two leader of AQI. The loss of these senior leaders continues to deteriorate AQI’s effectiveness.

AQI is by no means finished, but it is severely degraded. AQI’s own harsh tactics against ordinary Iraqis -- murder, hostage taking, espousing of austere Wahabbist practices, banning smoking, singing, dancing and music -- also ultimately helped seal its doom. Slowly, Iraqi insurgents who had been allied with them saw them as a foreign menace and rejected them. That trend continues.

Much has been written that the Al Qaeda concept never will be defeated militarily. Rather, it must be rejected by those it has been (and still is) being sold to as a repressive and empty philosophy. In Iraq, that is happening. Ordinary Sunni Iraqis, many of whom later risked their lives daily as Sons of Iraq, soundly have rejected AQI’s repressive, internecine agenda. The Government of Iraq faces a tough task on how best to integrate the SOI into either the ISF or find a livelihood for them. Like many issues in Iraq this remains on a razor’s edge.

Iraq’s Future

We are in the business now of getting out of Iraq. As I write this the US and Iraqi governments continue to negotiate a Status of Forces (SOFA) agreement which will dictate how US forces continue to operate inside Iraq after the expiration of the current UN Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) on 31 December. Although not authoritative as yet, it appears 2011 will be the year US forces complete their withdrawal from Iraq.

In the year I was there, the GOI took the first, important steps to take control of the security situation. Now the political and economic process must mature but there will be significant obstacles that only the Iraqis can address. There is still deep distrust between Iraqi Shia, Sunnis, and Kurds. The current Iraqi coalition government is made up primarily of Shia political parties. New provincial elections will take place either in December, 2008 or January 2009. The Sunnis, who boycotted the 2005 elections, are expected to make a strong showing. The Kurds, who continue to push for more political, economic, and military autonomy in the north of Iraq continue a war of words with GOI

Iraq is fortunate to have large oil reserves but the GOI must figure out how to equitably distribute its oil income between all three groups and how to use that money to fund reconstruction efforts throughout the country. It also must address widespread corruption and smuggling of essential goods such as fuel. Dismantling JAM was an important first step but smuggling and corruption won’t ever go away completely.

There are both positive and negative indicators that the Iraqi people and its fledgling government are up to this challenge. It is in their hands now. One thing is for sure: all hope the bloodshed is over.

What Did I Learn?

Like many deploying to either Iraq or Afghanistan, I was apprehensive. Would I perform well? Would I be able to deal with the challenges thrown at me? Would I serve honorably under fire? Would I make a difference? Would I be a dumb ass?

I was fortunate that I never once had to fire a weapon in the year I was there. I did come under indirect fire on numerous occasions. It was stressful and I didn’t sleep well. When it was happening, I wondered if I would go to sleep never to wake up if that magic rocket hit my trailer. I was caught several times outdoors when rockets hit and I just got small on the ground and hoped they didn’t land on or near me (only one did -- my only “close call” but thankfully no one was seriously injured in that attack). When it got particularly bad in April, I just slept in the Embassy/Republican Palace which took several rocket hits while I was there and was none the worse for wear. Still I was fortunate; my lot was much better than the thousands of leg infantry grunts who were based out of Joint Security Stations or Forward Operating Bases throughout Iraq.

And while it was my turn to man the wall, I was doubly fortunate that the military actually placed me in a position where I would do the most good: a strategic planner attached to MNF-I. I did not have the benefit of having formal schooling in joint planning before going over but learning on the job has its own advantages.

The Plans staff visualized and wrote strategic level direction for both MNF-I and Multi-National Corps-Iraq (MNC-I). While the Iraq campaign was run at the strategic level by General David Petraeus (MNF-I), it was fought on the operational and tactical level by MNC-I and its subordinate Multi-National Divisions (MNDs). For the majority of my time in Iraq, MNF-I was commanded by General Petraeus and MNC-I by Lieutenant General Lloyd Austin. (When I arrived, MNC-I was commanded by then Lieutenant General Raymond Odierno who later came back to head MNF-I after General Petraeus was nominated to head US Central Command (USCENTCOM). Odierno was replaced early in my tour by Austin.)

To be sure, there were some operational challenges dealing with a command structure that had so many general officers assigned to it. For example, the head MNF-I’s individual directorates (intelligence, operations, plans, sustainment, etc) were either one or two star generals or admirals. Their deputies were always coalition nation one star brigadiers (from either the UK or Australia). MNC-I’s directorates were headed usually by army colonels.

It became a self fulfilling reality that all Army echelons complain about their higher headquarters. For example, the guys assigned to MNDs complained about the guys at MNC-I who complained about the guys at MNF-I who complained about USCENTCOM. I got to spend time (and planning) with representatives from all groups. Once we were in the same room and working together, things always seemed to work out (personability and an open mind went a long way).

As a planner I worked most of the time with representatives from other MNF-I directorates, mostly operations and information operations. Serving on a cross-directorate team was enjoyable and really served to broaden my outlook and understanding of the campaign.

During my year, I put to work nearly the sum total of my undergraduate and postgraduate education in political science, international relations, my military training and experience, and all that I knew of strategic and operational planning. I left feeling that yes, I had made some measure of difference.

Most important: I learned that people matter a lot. Intrinsically, I knew this but it was made evident again and again while I was in Iraq. I wrote earlier that the people I served with made the biggest difference in my experience in Iraq. Without doubt, they were the finest military officers I have ever worked with. And while there was constant rotation, every person that left was replaced by someone of equal or better character and ability. No one could ask for anything better, especially in a combat environment.

When it was my time to leave, inspired by that aged army captain back at Fort Jackson, I recited from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar:

Farewell! And whether we shall meet again, I know not.
Therefore, our everlasting farewell take:
For ever, and for ever, farewell!
If we do meet again, then we shall smile;
If not, ‘tis true this parting was well made.


Maybe you learned something too.

Raising Jack

Now that I'm back be sure to check out my new blog, "Raising JD," which documents my transition back to being a dad.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Republican Palace

The new U.S. Embassy Complex (NEC) in Baghdad is complete and operational. As part of the transition, the U.S. will give the Republican Palace, formally known as the U.S. Embassy Annex, back to the Government of Iraq along with much of the International Zone. Since 2003, the palace was home to both Department of State and Multi-National Force-Iraq (MNF-I) personnel.

One would think this would be big news but so far only two English newspapers (1, 2) seem to be carrying the story.

During my deployment, I worked in the palace every day along side roughly a thousand other people. As I write this, my old office mates have moved out of the International Zone and over to the sprawling Victory Base Complex near Baghdad Inernational Airport (BIAP). Personally, I'm glad I missed the move. The palace was a great place to work and live near.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

A final post...

...is coming. I hope to Pull It All Together for you. It's still in draft form. I'll get there eventually. Check back.

Adjusting

Remember when I laughed off all those "transition assistance" briefs back at WTP? Well, they were right; adjusting to life at home is, well, not as easy as I thought it would be.

For one thing, I can't concentrate on just one thing. This is to be expected in a household with an energetic nearly-three-year-old. I realize that, while deployed to Baghdad, I had the luxury of concentrating on whatever it was that I was working on. Completely. Meals came at regularly scheduled times and I didn't have to think about what I would be eating next (well, we did ruminate on what might be on the menu and whether or not it would actually taste different).

The other thing is I keep losing everything. My lilliputian trailer made it easy to keep track of things. My two-story residence is a warehouse in comparison. All the "stuff" I kept in my pockets day to day has disappeared (digital camera, pocket knife, Fisher Space Pen, etc.). Worse still, my attractive wife in her zeal to keep things organized keeps putting things away for me. I put something down, it disappears to a place only She knows where. "Where is X?" I ask her. "In the place it's supposed to be," she answers cryptically.

On the plus side, it is wonderful to be with my family and my son seems to have fully accepted me as part of the household. In fact, it's like I never left. I take him to a nearby park nearly every day and he seems pretty happy. Also, I forgot what sleeping on a quality bed was like. Yesterday and today, I actually slept in so I think the worst of the jet lag is over.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

It Ends ... at the NOSC

Yesterday, I went back to Naval Operational Support Center (NOSC) Alameda, CA, my home reserve center, to finish up some final administrative tasks. Like NMPS, demobing was significantly easier than mobilizing. I turned in copies of my orders, leave slip (I get thirty days of it!), a travel claim, and my DD-214. I got a brief medical review and advice on several veterans-related assistance resources.

It's not really totally over (nothing with the Navy ever is); I have to come back on 1 Nov for a reserve medical physical. Despite having been on active duty for the last year, and having undergone a battery of physicals and screenings, I am techincally delinquent on reserve medical examinations. Rich.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Dead Guy Quotes

If you find yourself alone, riding in green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled: for you are in Elysium, and you're already dead!

Brothers, what we do in life echoes in eternity.

-- Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commanding General, Fourth Roman Legion (Legio IV Flavia Felix), Germania, 180 AD

MVP

Woo hoo! My rad friend (and fellow blogger) CKD rated me an MVP on her very well-written and witty blog. I read it regularly while deployed to remind me of friends left behind and generally keep my sanity. Thanks for the shout out, CKD!

It bears mentioning that when my attractive wife (then girlfriend) met CKD at Toronado, a bar in the lower Haight that specializes in Belgian beer, they remarked how they liked each other's tops. In a move that still impresses me, they exchanged tops right there in the bar. Booyah! Yeah, that's how the women in my life roll.

You know, any halfway decent girl can rob me -- blind -- because I'm too torqued up to say no.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Service Flag

While away, I sent my parents and my attractive wife service flags to signify I was overseas. Displaying such flags to signify a family member is overseas serving with the military dates back to both World War I and II. Shortly after I got home two days ago, my parents sent me this picture of my father ceremonially taking down the service flag they had displayed outside their house.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Three is a Magic Number

17 Oct 08, 1807 PDT. Back with my family.

Friday, October 17, 2008

NMPS - Day 2

Day two consisted of a final administrative push to complete my DD-214, the form which documents my military service and secures veteran's benefits. It involves a thorough review of my existing record and a description of what I did over the past year. During the process, several drafts are produced which I was required to edit and correct. By lunch time, I was done the travel desk procured a flight back to my home in northern California.

After signing the final papers, I went back to the BOQ, checked out, drove my rental car back to the airport and camped out in the waiting area. Unfortunately, no earlier flights were available. Sitting here in the passenger terminal, still in my desert uniform, I am overwhelmed by the site of normal people. I guess the transition will take some time getting used to.

In a few hours I will get to see my attractive wife and handsome son.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

NMPS - Day 1

Rather than spend the night in Baltimore, I was able to correct SATO ineptness and secure a flight all the way to San Diego via a stop in Salt Lake City. It didn't help that I was freely hallucinating from jet lag but I wanted to see if I could get to San Diego for demob processing sooner than later.

I arrived in San Diego around 2100 on 15 Oct after a trip of some thirty hours. I checked into the BOQ at 32nd Street Navy Base and had no trouble falling asleep.

The next day, I reported to the Navy Mobilization Processing Site (NMPS), the same building I went to last year to start my mobilization journey. As I walked to the building I saw an enormous line of people in varying types of Navy uniforms (officers in Khaki, aviators in flight suits, enlisted sporting the new khaki and black uniforms) all waiting to get mobilized. Poor bastards. I tried not have an overt smirk on my face as I walked by in my well worn Desert Camoflauge Uniforms. I got a few appraising glances as I walked by -- a senior officer returning from overseas. Yeah, been there, got the tee shirt.

Fortunately, the demobilization process didn't have so many people. I saw a Navy chief petty officer I knew who had gone over with me, plus two other petty officers I recognized from the rotator flight from Kuwait.

On this first day, we filled out forms, and ran a gamut of medical and dental processing. Blood was drawn for our annual HIV test, vital signs taken, a dentist looked at my teeth. At the end of the day, we had a legal brief. It was better than average progress and I was glad for it; I wanted to finish by tomorrow to avoid having to spend the weekend here doing nothing.

That night, I had dinner with my Navy friend Dave who I served with in a helicopter squadron years ago. He and the squadron had gone to Iraq on several detachments at the beginning of the war but I was unable to join them at that time. It was good to see him. We had an excellent Italian dinner where I spoke broken Arabic with the head waiter who was Palestinian. I enjoyed my first glass of Chianti since last May. It was good although it made me sleepy.

Baltimore, MD

We deplaned and went through another round of US customs. Most people went through just fine. The custom officer I went to looked at his computer screen for a long time after I presented my military ID card. Without looking at me, he said, "Do you have any other surnames?" "No," I answered. Still looking at his screen he asked, "Are you a citizen of the U.S.?"

A number of potentially smart ass remarks went through my head like, "I'm a commissioned officer in the U.S. Navy and am in uniform just arrived from Iraq, dumb ass. Of course I am."

Instead, I took a deep breath and said, "Yes." He let me through. Thanks, oh so much, Customs' finest.

Any frustration I felt quickly evaporated as I left customs and entered the terminal. There, like in Maine on the outbound flight, and Dallas, on my return to the US for leave, a group of well-wishers, including children, adults, veterans and some Navy personnel in dress blue uniforms, were gathered and cheered our return. I shook a lot hands and high-fived some kids.

As I made my way through the line, I came to two elderly veterans in wheel chairs, wearing world war two baseball hats. I saluted each and shook their hands. "Welcome back, commander," one of them said. He must have served in the Navy. I fought back tears. "Thank you, sir," I said. "It's good be back in the U.S."

CONUS

Wheels down, Baltimore, Maryland: 1351:29 Eastern Daylight Time, 15 October 2008 to the sound of applause throughout the aircraft.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Ramstein, Germany

We landed for fuel in Ramstein, Germany some seven hours after taking off from Kuwait. The Air Force passenger terminal was a thing of beauty, multiple stories, massive glass windows viewing the tarmac. Free wireless Internet that actually worked. At the USO, I got a free cup of coffee and some German cookies.

The Air Force knows how to live.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

WTP - Day 3

We boarded buses in the late afternoon on 14 Oct to go through the painful customs procedure. I went through this previously when I went on R&R leave last May. It was about the same level of pain this time too.

We went through the customs inspection process twice; first for our checked bags and then again for our carry ons. It was relatively smooth but took a long time (roughly three hours). After it was over, we were bused over to the DFAC for one last meal. Then back to the customs area for a brief wait.

At around 2100 we boarded a new set of buses and made the hour plus drive to Kuwait City International. We stayed on the military side of the airport and stayed briefly in a transient military passenger terminal. Around 0100 on the 15th we walked in single file along the tarmac and boarded a chartered Boeing 767 for the flight to Baltimore.

We are finally getting out of here.

I Hate SATO

So we were supposed to get our commercial airline itineraries yesterday at 1600. We dutifully showed up at the WTP building only to be told, "come back in an hour" as SATO -- the US Government Travel Agency -- was still working on them.

We showed up at 1700. There are significant "issues" with our itineraries we were told; the few that had been turned in were largely incorrect. Oh, and the SATO office is now closed for the day. WTF? About the only thing I did find out was that I was on the scheduled for the chartered flight that would fly from Kuwait to Baltimore. Some people were told they didn't make that and instead would be issued commercial air tickets to their ultimate destinations.

We checked back again at 1830 and were told someone at SATO promised all itineraries would be ready first thing in the morning. So we checked back this morning. Only ten out of roughly fifty were ready.

Somewhere, someone screwed up; those of in Iraq I know put in our travel requests between forty-five to fifty days ago. Why are our itineraries being worked on at the last minute when surely there will be a paucity of available seats on desired commercial flights leaving Baltimore? As a result of this oversight, it's very likely many of us will be stuck in Baltimore waiting for flights that leave next day.

For frak's sake. This is how redeploying service members are treated? No wonder they had us turn in our weapons on day one.

WTP - Day 2

The only major event for today was a three-hour seminar designed for us to talk about our collective experience during deployment. The session was led by a Navy chaplain. He was a amiable enough guy but one whose deployment assignment was to Kuwait so I felt that he was at a disadvantage talking to us about serving in a combat zone when he had not. He plodded through the PowerPoint slides and encouraged us to talk about our expectations and the reality we actually faced. I smiled and looked at my watch ... three ... two ... one: Initiate bitch session.

A female lieutenant wearing Naval Academy shorts was the first one to mention that the duties she performed in Afghanistan had nothing to do with 1) her Navy specialty and 2) the five months of specialty training she received before going over. This equivalent sentiment was echoed by more than 70% of the group. Yes, we were not technically "re-missioned" (i.e., tasked to do something completely out of our lane) but our collective experience sure pushed the boundaries. About the only persons who actually performed their expertise were Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) guys.

Everyone blamed the unwieldy, faceless Joint Manning Document (JMD) which stipulates which jobs exist, and which services are responsible for filling them, for both Iraq and Afghanistan. The JMD review cycle spans well over a year -- someone mentioned eighteen months -- which is one a half one-year tours for Individual Augmentees. The result? We are placing people in jobs that, in many cases, have been overtaken by events (OBE). All our kvetching echoed the same sentiment: "fix the frakin' JMD." Yeah, I'm sure the Pentagon and Joint Staff will get right on that.

Rather than being cathartic, the session just pissed me off. I thought I was here to decompress? The poor chaplain leading our session wasn't prepared to facilitate this type of discussion. I felt sorry for him but he soldiered on until we finished. I thanked him after it ended nonetheless. After all, he was doing the job he was sent here to do.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Happy Birthday

Happy 233rd birthday to the United States Navy!

The flag shown here is the US Navy's Jack, traditionally flown at the bow of a warship while in port. It's based on a design of flag made popular before the War for Independence. The rattlesnake, found only in the colonies and not England, became a iconic symbol for the burgeoning independence movement.

Shortly after 9/11, the Navy readopted this design as the Navy's Jack to be flown during the War on Terrorism (the previous Navy Jack was a blue flag with fifty stars). Below is a picture of the Jack flying just outside the WTP building.

WTP - Day 1

We awoke early on 12 Oct to catch bus transportation from Gateway to Camp Arifjan, about a two hour’s drive away. We separated our issue-gear from our personal gear, loading the former onto a convoy of four buses and latter onto a cargo truck. The ride was uneventful; I slept for most of it.

We arrived just before lunch and were welcomed by the members of the Navy Warrior Transition Program (WTP). After unloading our gear outside, we walked into a large hangar building to the sound of applause from the WTP staff. We lined up in front of tables with our issue-gear and body armor to turn it all in. While waiting in line, I had to break down my body armor into its individual parts: front, back, and side ceramic impact plates, side carrier pockets, shoulder protection, groin protector, neck protector, etc. I remembered assembling all of this a year ago back at Fort Jackson and how long it took. It was remarkably easy to take apart. The armor had been such a constant part of my life over the past year, lugging and wearing it as I had to, it was a little odd (maybe even disrespectful?) to disassemble it so quickly.


My turn came up and I placed the body armor parts on the table to watch them be checked off and disappear into storage bins. Next, I emptied two sea bags worth of other issue gear and similarly watched it be checked off and placed into bins: chemical suit (still in its bag), gas mask, entrenching tool, two canteens, pistol belt and holster, ruck sack, foul weather jacket, gortex outerwear, etc.

Next, I went over to the opposite side of the hangar to turn in my pistol. I disassembled it, cleaned it, and turned it in along with four magazines. It was inspected and placed in a box.

For the final stage, I took a post deployment health assessment survey on a laptop. Did I have any pressing health concerns? Yeah, how about inhaling a metric ton of dust while I was here?

When finished with all of this, my battle buddy, Paul (a Navy commander who went through Fort Jackson with me last year) and I raced to lunch at the DFAC before it ended at 1330. We talked over lunch and both agreed it felt odd to be free of all that gear.

A few hours later, we returned to the hangar to receive an admin brief. We were greeted by a female Navy captain who heads WTP. She congratulated us on successfully completing our Individual Augmentee assignments. She told us we were now part of an elite minority in the Navy: only 3% of the total Navy (reserve and active components) had performed the job we had. We should be proud.

She also said that over the next two days, we should be selfish. We would need to make time for ourselves because, she reminded us, there would be demands on our time the moment we returned to our families.

After working a year’s worth of 14-16 hour days six and a half days a week, I find it actually challenging to do nothing. Wasn’t there a meeting I had to go to? Some urgent email to answer? Some planning project that wasn’t finished? A brief to prepare?

I guess it really is finished. Maybe I should take a nap?

Dead Guy Quotes

It will be a hard life
One without reward
Without remorse
Without regret

A path will be placed before you
The choice is yours alone
Do what you think
You cannot do

It will be a hard life
But you will find out
Who you are

-- Qui-Gon Jin

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Dragon

I thought a lot about whether to post this because it's very private. But what the hell, you've read this far, haven't you?

I missed my family terribly during the last year. I missed Thanksgiving, my son's second birthday, Christmas, my attractive wife's birthday, and our fifth wedding anniversary...the list goes on.

When I missed my son particularly, I watched this video on my iPod in an attempt to cheer me up (originally downloaded from YouTube)



I think it's one of the most creative, thoughtful, and brilliant commercials I've ever seen.

In my own personal journey, the dragons took the form of artillery rockets which were fired at the International Zone with special intensity last spring.

Joaquin, I won't be able to bring you a toy rocket but I'll bring the next best thing: me -- intact.

Truckin'

Sometimes the light's all shining on me

Other times I can barely see

Lately it appears to me

What a long, long strange trip it's been...

Truckin' (The Grateful Dead)
(The cover by Dwight Yoakam is particularly good)

Dust Devil

Day two of decompression at Gateway. I slept through breakfast courtesy of ear plugs and eyeshades. I think I slept for over ten hours. I grabbed coffee and a doughnut at the local Green Beans and the retired to the MWR Tent to watch TV but really play on the laptop. There is a reasonably priced wireless Internet service which I am using to post blog entries and do email on.

As I walked back to the tent, looked up and saw the tallest dust devil I have ever seen. It was easily 200-300 feet tall.

My God, it's full of stars

Back at Camp Victory, the night we left for BIAP, we had to stop at the Perfume Palace to pick up a driver who would return the borrowed truck after dropping us off at the passenger terminal. Joe rushed inside and I took to repacking our gear so someone could fit in the back seat. That only took a few minutes. When I finished, I noticed how dark it was. The palace sits astride one of several man-made lakes. The lake in this case is completely walled in and devoid of light towers. It was really dark. I looked up and saw stars, the kind you see only in, well, really dark skies. Above me, spanning many degrees of arc, was magnificent Orion. I hadn’t so much seen a constellation in Baghdad. I hadn’t seen this one, well, before leaving the US. And here he was, familiar from my youth, looking down on me. Perhaps a harbinger, pointing the way home.
Using a trick I learned as a child, I looked just askance at the three faint stars that make up his sword. While not directly looking at it, I could just make out the middle star, which really isn’t a star at all but spectacular nebula, the Orion Nebula, a cloud that would span the distance of many of our own solar systems, a giant stellar nursery where stars are being born.

As I continued looking around the sky I saw Canis Major, Orion’s faithful dog following just behind and to the left of Orion, the tight star cluster of the Pleiades, which are so young, the dinosaurs didn’t see them, and the familiar W shape of Cassiopeia. All familiar from my childhood, all now visible on my last night in Baghdad. Directly overhead, I noticed two brightly flashing strobes, not stars, but manmade anti-collision lights. A moment of confusion because there was no sound of an aircraft engine. As I looked more closely, I saw the dark outlines of a tethered aerostat floating silently above me like some bespoke German dirigible.

In addition to the dark, it was also preternaturally quiet. No helicopters, jets, or Prowler UAVs overhead. No whine of diesel engines from HUMVEEs or tracked vehicles. Just quiet and dark. Maybe even peaceful.

Presently, my revelry was interrupted by voices drawing near attached to two moving shadows: Joe and our driver. Time to go. See you soon, I whispered to the stars.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Gateway Again

We landed around 0800 at Ali as Selem Air Base in Kuwait. This was my third time here and by now the mechanics were familiar: we boarded waiting buses for a fifteen minute drive to US Army Central Gateway Operations (Gateway bears a disturbing resemblance to Mos Eisley Space Port from Star Wars minus the cantina, of course). We offloaded from the buses and scanned our ID cards at the inbound operations tent, recording our arrival. We checked in with the Kuwait Navy LNO’s office where a representative told us we were to arrange for a temporary tent, store our gear and hang tight for a two day wait before proceeding to Camp Arifjan for Warrior Transition Program. The down time is designed as part of the demobilization/redeployment process to “decompress.”

Miraculously, all my bags arrived on the luggage pallet which we broke down. I was assigned senior officer’s tent quarters along with several others in my group. We even were offered the services of a camp Gator vehicle, a type of ATV, to haul our heavy sea bags and suitcases to our tents. (Presumably, once one gets away from the high concentrations of general/flag officers and colonels in Baghdad, field grade rank actually begins to matter again.)

I checked out some linen, made by bed and promptly fell asleep. Yeah, decompression.

Leaving Camp Victory

When the convoy arrived at the Al Faw Palace at Camp Victory, I was met by my Navy colleague, Joe, a lieutenant, junior grade. It was Joe’s last day in the office and he would be redeploying with me. We drove over to a different palace he worked in, the so-called “Perfume Palace,” the site of a former brothel run by Saddam’s sons, Uday and Qusay. We checked in with the Navy element by phone to confirm our show-time for tomorrow’s flight: 1030. Too easy.

We left the palace to grab dinner at their DFAC and then I went back to the trailer he shared with several other people, most of whom already had deployed. I took a sinfully long hot shower in the nearby shower trailer and then watched an episode of Battlestar Galactica. Cut free from the IZ, I all of sudden felt immensely tired. I was thinking of actually going to sleep when Joe came back to the trailer and said, “I have bad news.”

Not hearing him correctly, I said, “Tell me the good news first.” He looked at me quizzically. He explained that, while at a final meeting, the Navy element tried to reach him by phone that our flight had changed or may have been cancelled altogether. The spottily written message handed to him by a co-worker who had since departed the office suggested our new show-time was now 0215, roughly in five hours time. I got dressed and we walked back to his desk at the Perfume Palace where we tried to call the Navy element. No one was available and no one picked up there published cell phone. We called the BIAP passenger terminal who confirmed there was a show time for a flight to Ali as Salem at that time but that we would need to know the Unit Line Number (ULN) in order to get on the flight. Of course we didn’t have that and it wasn’t specified on the written message.

We decided to drive over to BIAP to talk to them in person. Normally, this takes around ten to fifteen minutes but, as bad luck would have it, we encountered the mother of all truck convoys driving along the exact route we needed to take to BIAP. It took the better part of forty minutes.

At the passenger terminal -- a place I knew all too well from previous inter-theater travel -- an enlisted air force terminal representative said several other navy personnel had wandered in saying they were redeploying like us and that they were to show up at 0215. One of the navy personnel said he was told a representative from the Navy element would be present to give us the ULN. Fine, we thought; let’s just show at 0215.

By now, it was nearly 2330. We hoped back in Joe’s borrowed truck and made our way back to his home in Camp Slayer. Once again, we encountered an impossibly huge, slow moving truck convoy -- part of the immense logistical effort that keeps Camp Victory running. It took us an hour and change to get back. We arrived back at Joe’s CHU at nearly 0030. We decided to try and leave as early as possible given the bad traffic karma. Joe hurriedly finished his own packing, we reloaded the truck with our bags and set off for the palace to find someone who could drive the truck back after dropping us off. We left the palace at 0130.

Predictably, we hit yet another frakin' convoy on the way back to BIAP. It took nearly forty minutes but we arrived just in time. As we finished unloading our baggage train to an area near the Navy LNO trailer, we spotted a navy lieutenant commander in the darkness with a clipboard -- the sign of knowledge and authority at the terminal. He told us our ULN and told us to check in at the terminal. We did so and everything seemed to start flowing smoothly from there. We immediately palletized our luggage and then were told to come back at 0445 for the gate call. Hurry up and wait.

I went into the Navy LNO trailer, where I previously spent the night just before taking leave last May. I found a hgh-backed chair and caught at least an hour of sleep.

We left Iraq, on time, in the pre-dawn twilight at 0630. As Luke Skywalker mused a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, "I'm never coming back to this planet again..."

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Route Irish

The MRAP convoy rolled westwards to Camp Victory along Route Irish, once dubbed, “the most dangerous road in Iraq.” Not so anymore; that distinction likely belongs to some other Main Supply Route up in northern Iraq, near Mosul.

On the various occasions I had to convoy between the International Zone and Camp Victory throughout my year-long tour, I noticed a subtle transition along Route Irish. Little by little it began to look less desolate, less deserted, more lived in. No more was that echoed than on this last transit. Once bleak concrete retaining walls now were brightly painted with geo-metric and middle-eastern designs. Actual billboards dotted the route here and there for cellular telephone services. Everywhere construction gangs worked on the median, clearing the open fields that a year ago were akin to no man’s land. Overhead highway spans were being repaired, heavy construction vehicles, Iraqi civilian traffic all along the route. I even saw a man on a bicycle.

Things looked better.

Leaving the International Zone

After a flurry of surprisingly frustrating packing-throwing-things-away-giving-things-away-sending-boxes-home I stood ready on 9 Oct to leave. I would take the midday Rhino convoy from the International Zone to Camp Victory. I was to be picked up by another Navy colleague who also was redeploying and who with I would spend the night with.

My co-workers were depressed and went out of their way to tell me so. I don’t know if that made me feel good or bad (a little of both). I too was a little melancholy. Looking back on photos from my early on in my deployment, none of the current crew were around. Still, they all seem amalgamated into a collective whole that I remember fondly. After a last lunch at the Palace DFAC (we ate outside) my teammates and I went to my CHU to get my bags. They consist of: two issue sea bags full of gear I will need to turn in when I get to Kuwait, a large DCU back pack (for my laptop and other miscellany) and a large rolling suitcase.

We walked the bags over to the North Ballroom of the Palace and waited around for the Rhino show-time in the early afternoon. I did some last minute emails and phone calls related to my current planning project. I looked at my watch and announced, “well, it’s about that time, gents.” We started gathering my bags. To my surprise, the army colonel who runs our Plans shop shouldered the heaviest sea bag. I said, “Sir, you don’t need to carry that,” but he said, “you carried our burden, now we’ll carry yours.”

As I made my way to the office door, my teammate, Al said in a booming voice heard throughout the ballroom, “Call it out! Commander, U.S. Navy, de-par-ting!” which is the custom when a senior officer leaves a ship in port.


As a group we walked the short distance from the north end of the Palace to the Rhino staging area. When we arrived everyone stood around chatting and laughing waiting for the Rhino convoy. We took one last picture as the convoy arrived and I shook everyone’s hand and saluted all.

Very bittersweet. From within armored confines of a new MRAP, we drove away.

On the road ...

Leaving the IZ today. More posts to come when I find Internet connectivity in Kuwait.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

The Last Week

Suddenly, I find myself in my last week in Iraq. It snuck up on my in way I didn’t think it would. After all, I’ve been looking forward to the end of my tour – everyone does. But to be actually faced with its impending completion leaves me feeling, well, strange.

I had my outcall a few days ago with the Army colonel who runs my shop. He asked me how I felt and I told him I was surprised I didn’t feel like I thought I would. In fact, I had mixed feelings. Not about what I have done or accomplished but with the simple act of leaving behind the people I’ve worked so closely with over the past year. As I look around my office, I am the senior guy; that is, I can remember the day everyone walked into the office. I can remember the guy each of them replaced when they arrived. I explained to him that the biggest surprise was that each of the people who walked through the door was as good or better than the person we said good bye to. How was that possible? How long could that keep up? And yet it did for the entire year I was here.

Years ago, I served in a Navy tactical helicopter squadron. It was a great assignment and when I finished I thought I would never experience that kind of camaraderie again. I was wrong. The people who end here consistently are excellent and enjoyable to work with. Maybe it’s the fact we are in a war zone and were occasionally shot at. Maybe it’s the subject matter. The prospect of rebuilding a country and government from scratch is daunting but we were surrounded by smart people who generated a sort of collective wisdom that informed our actions, our planning.

Last Friday, it was my turn to stand up, receive my end of tour award, and give a brief speech. It echoed what I wrote above: it was always about the people, in Navy parlance, my shipmates, which made the experience worthwhile, satisfying. I won’t miss many aspects of Baghdad but I will miss the people I served with: Americans, Brits, Aussies, civilians from the Department of State, Treasury, Justice, civilian translators, the local Iraqis who work in the International Zone, and all the Third Country Nationals who keep everything running.

Today was my last Sunday mass at the Embassy Chapel, located in a large trailer outside the palace. At the end of mass, the priest always asks if anyone is leaving the coming week and invites them forward to receive a blessing. There were quite a few of us this week and it was with that same feeling of now it’s my turn that walked up to receive a blessing in the name of Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers.

Finally, another milestone: it was one year ago today that I reported for active duty at NOSC Alameda. A whole damn year.

I’ve only got a few more days left in Iraq. I better get packing. There’s a lot more ground to cover, and many miles to go, before I sleep at home.